


Hunters

by orphan_account



Series: Supernaturalstuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Demons, Half-breeds, Humanstuck, Hunting, Killing, Monsters, Multi, Really Graphic Violence, Vampires, Violence, god-tiers are integrated somehow, nothing to do with the show Supernatural, own creatures, sexual content in later chapters, sometimes humanstuck....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since you were a toddler, you had been able to properly hold and shoot a gun. Your grandfather was a master marksman, and possibly the best Big Game hunter of his generation. He taught you everything you know, and was the only person you truly trusted. </p><p>Until one day, when something beyond the natural world took him away from you.</p><p>Your name is Jade Harley, and you are a different kind of hunter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chase

You are running and you cannot stop. 

The thing you’re chasing is faster than you anticipated, but for now you can’t dwell too heavily on it. The savage just killed someone, drank their blood and left them to rot. You don’t think that running is too much for trying to finish it off.

The gun at your hip feels heavy. You should do it now; it’s in range, and you’ve got a good shot. If you miss, there are nine other rounds in your clip ready to take the beast out.

The forest trail comes to an end, but it keeps running. You stumble more than you’d like through underbrush, and it’s quickly getting away. It’s now or never.

Your hand closes around the handle of your pistol. As you aim your finger twitches. A light pressure is applied. After three shots, your target is face down in the mud.

You walk toward the body, slinging your small backpack around your shoulder. You reach inside and grab a small bottle of clear fluid, and uncap it as you take it out. The aroma of the foul-smelling contents hit your nose as you empty the bottle onto the body. From your pocket you pull out a set of matches, strike one, and drop it. Flames roar up instantly, illuminating the dark forest. 

A job well done, you tell yourself as you put away the now empty bottle if lighter fluid. You reaffix your backpack and put your handgun back in your thigh holster, and begin the hike back to your truck.

 

\+ + + + 

 

It’s two in the morning when you get home, and your brother and cousins are still up when you tiptoe into the living room.

Everyone calls you the ‘J’ family, even though you all have different last names, because all of your first names start with the letter ‘J’. There’s your half-brother John Egbert, who has a different father than you, your cousin Jake English from your fathers’ side, and other cousin Jane Crocker from your mothers’ side. Then there’s you, Jade Harley, who seems to tie everyone together. Besides, of course, the reason for which you all came together in the first place.

“Jade! Back home safe, I see?” Jade runs up and hugs you. You’ll never grow tired of his almost too-fake British accent he acquired after the two of you spend two-some years there just hunting with your shared grandfather. 

“I always get home safe, you doof.” You pat him on the back, and he lets you out of his tight hug.

“You left without warning, you can’t blame him for being a little worried.” Jane comments with narrowed eyes. 

She and Jake are around the same age, both being twenty-eight. You’re twenty-four and John is twenty-one. Your father died before you were born, and you were given to your grandfather to be cared for alongside Jake. Later, your mother married John’s dad. You never met them, nor did you particularly want to. You were an “accident” she didn’t want, and she was more than happy to send you off to your Grandpa’s for the rest of your life. She did, however, manage to send you birthday money, until she died. John’s dad and her had died in a suspicious mugging-turned-murder, and very soon after the fact the government plopped John right on your doorstep, declaring this brother you never knew you even had your legal ward. That was a little over two years after Grandpa’s death, and two years after John’s parents died, Jane’s father died and came looking for her last living relative. It was the loss of everyone that drew and kept the four of you together under one cohesive roof.

“It was an emergency. Jake, you’ve taken a number of emergency cases, you know what I’m talking about.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you. After all, you are a girl–“

You punch him hard in the arm. Jake shuts his mouth.

“Was it an easy kill?” John asks. He’s not all that trained at hunting; you and Jake are only as skilled as you are because Grandpa trained you to trap and kill all types of wild game. You’ve been teaching him, but he isn’t a sharpshooter like you are.

“That vampire could run, but other than that, it went down in three shots.”

“And you burnt the body?”

“No evidence.” You nod. 

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Jane yawns as she gets up from the black velvet chaise, “Unlike the three of you, I have a real-world job.”

Jane is the heiress of Betty Crocker Co. Her father’s old business partner, Imperia Condesca, is now the company’s C.E.O. After her father’s untimely death, Jane was given a job as a branch manager at the company. Jane can only inherit the company and become C.E.O. after Imperia Condesca either steps down, or dies, as dictated in Jane’s father’s will. Jane is worth millions, having come from old money just like you and Jake. 

“We’ll keep it down for ya then.” Jake called after her. John was at the wet bar pouring three scotch drinks, and brought them over to you and your cousin. 

“To luck.” John toasted. The three of you clink your glasses together, and set yourselves down on the sofa, staring out the window to the front garden.

Life isn’t easy, but it’s yours.


	2. The Contact

You wake up in your bed with your legs tangled in your sheets, and you just know you woke up after noon. You haven’t had a job in days, and frankly, you need something to do other than go late-night clubbing with Jake while Jane and John have normal work and college lives.

Of course, clubbing isn’t really your thing. It’s more of a pastime; you just to make sure Jake doesn’t drink himself into an alcoholic coma, and so you can drive him back to your Long Island home at four in the morning. And despite waking up at noon, you still only got about seven hours of sleep.

You sit up and swing your bare legs over the edge of your bed. You weave your hair into a braid to battle its messiness and tuck the loose strands behind your ears. On the floor is your dress from last night, four-inch-heels, purse, and just about every other clothing item you own. You don’t keep a very clean room, and you refuse to let Jane hire a maid for three reasons: they’re easy to possess, you have too many weapons lying around the house, and when its messy you know where everything is. The only downside to not having a maid is that you have to clean a thirty-room, four-story mansion, and its expansive grounds all by yourself.

The mansion, Harley Manor, was your Grandpas, and is under the deed of Jake English, since he was eighteen at the time of your Grandpa’s death.

There’s a crashing sound from the next room that can only be Jake falling off the side of his bed and into a hangover. You idly wonder if he’s noticed the blonde hottie he brought home last night.

You’re still in boy shorts and a tank top when you leave your room and trudge downstairs to the kitchen.

While you pour the milk into your cereal, aforementioned blonde hottie stumbles into the kitchen. 

“Morning beefcake!” you say cheerfully. He winces at the sudden noise, and you can tell he’s squinting his eyes behind his dark sunglasses. “I didn’t get your name last night while you were making out with my cousin.”

“Dirk.” He grumbles. You pour him a tall glass of water and offer some toaster waffles. He thanks you, and thanks you again when you put down three painkillers next to his plate on the counter.

“So was that you or my cousin who crashed out of bed this morning?”

“Me, sorry. I have the worst hangover. I lost my balance.”

“No worries! Do you need a ride home? Jake won’t be up for a long time, I’m sure.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

You go upstairs while Dirk eats his breakfast to change. You pick out forest green shorts, a nude-colored tank top, and brown converse shoes before grabbing your keys and purse and running back downstairs. Dirk is still nibbling on the try toaster waffles you made for him. 

“Where do you live, Dirk?”

“Soho. I’m sorry it’s so far–“

“It’s really no problem,” you wave it off, “I’d be happy to drive you. You can eat those in the car, if you want.”

You lead Dirk to the garage, and direct him to the white 1961 Mercedes. 

“Nice car.”

“It was my grandfathers’. He made me promise to keep her running even after his passing, and I’ve driven it ever since!”

\+ + +

It’s a quiet drive onto New York City. You’re pretty used to your cousin getting drunk and taking home strange men. After a couple of these times, you’ve trained yourself to fall asleep listening to loud music. And always in the morning, he’s either still asleep or too embarrassed to show his face, so you drive the poor boys home. 

You park at the street-level, and help Dirk out of the car. He’s still stumbling, and as soon as you close the passenger side door, he vomits all over the sidewalk. 

“Oh boy.” You grunt, and tug him past the disturbed pedestrians. Dirk appears to have lost his keys, and presses the call-box for apartment 41-3 in the high rise building. 

“What” an unhappy voice replies. 

“Bro, let me in.”

The door buzzes, and you push it open for dirk, who pauses another moment to puke in the little tree pots by the door. At least he waited until he got out of your car, you think bitterly. 

The elevator ride up to level 41 is almost too long, and you can tell Dirk is fighting the need to puke all over again. It finally opens, and you help him down the hall to apartment 3. You bang on the door, and after a second passes, a similarly blonde young man in dark aviator sunglasses opens it.

“I was wondering when you’d get home, bro.” he says before Dirk pushes past him and runs inside, probably to puke again. The brother turns his head to you. “Have fun last night?”

“He and my cousin did.” You shrug.

“Okay, ‘cause I was gonna say, my bro’s strictly into dudes, and you’re definitely not a dude.” He leans against the doorframe. “So why’d you take him home?”

“My cousin’s sort of a douche. Besides, I thought I’d at least do him the honor of not having to do the walk of shame.”

“Thank you for that. Do you want to come in?”

“You better not be a creep, because I carry a concealed weapon.” You joke.

“Hey sister, I ain’t got any foul intentions.” He throws his hands up. You notice he has a slight Texan accent, one that is worn with age. You smile graciously, and step over the threshold. 

“My name’s Jade, by the way.” You say as you ender the apartment.

“Dave.” He responds. “My sisters aren’t home right now, but I bet if they were they’d practically be singing fuckin’ Beauty and the Beast tunes while pouring you tea”

“Your sisters sound like lovely people.” You comment as you sit down on one of the white leather sofas in front of spectacular floor-to-ceiling windows. Dave sits down on the sofa across from you.

“Not really. One’s a drunk and the other’s obsessed with Cthulu.”

“They still sound lovely to me.”

Dave eyes you for a moment. At least, you think he is, since his sunglasses completely cover his eyes. But he is silent for a moment, before he talks again.

“You said you carry a concealed weapon?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing, I just wanna know why such a pretty girl like you spends her spring days carrying around hidden knives and guns and shit.”

“That’s really none of your business.” You lean back in your seat on the sofa and cross your arms. “So, what do you do if you can afford a loft like this in the city?”

“I’m a DJ for a pretty prestigious club, Dirk produces small films, my older sister Roxy is a geneticist, and my twin sister Rose plays violin with the New York Philharmonic. We’re a pretty varied family.”

“And you live together still?”

“We’re incredibly close.”

“Hmm. Reminds me of my family. I live with my half-brother and cousins, on separate sides of the family, though.”

“And what do you do?”

“My cousin Jake and I come from old money, and we don’t really have jobs, per-say. My half-brother John is still in college, but he’s on Spring Break right now, so he’s home. Then John’s cousin Jane works for a major corporation. She was…born for it, I guess.”

“Old money, no job and living in New York? Must be a lot of old money, then.”

“We live on Long Island, actually. It’s a forty minute drive into the city.”

“Well shit, then I really appreciate you driving Dirk home.”

“It’s no trouble. I don’t have to do anything else today.”

Your attention is put on Dirk’s appearance at the hallway entrance. 

“I, uh, left my keys and phone in your mansion.” He groans sheepishly.

“Mansion?” Dave’s eyebrows go up past his sunglasses. You ignore the comment.

“Oh shoot. Uhm, when I get home I’ll put them in a FedEx box and send it over, how’s that sound?”

Dirk shoots you thumbs up, and retreats back into the hallway. 

“…Man, for being raised in old money, you sure are nice to your cousin’s one-night stands.” The corner of Dave’s mouth raises into a half-smile. 

“I’m just a caring person,” you shrug, “not all wealthy people are snobbish fuckasses.”

Dave laughs, relaxing into a more comfortable position. Despite the warm spring break weather, he wears black jeans and a long-sleeve red and white baseball shirt. He laughs like he just heard an ironic joke: light but genuine. 

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” he asks suddenly. He still wears his smile, albeit a slightly smug one. It takes you by surprise, so you stare at him with your mouth dropped open. “Hey, I just think that you’re a beautiful young woman. I don’t have any ulterior motives. I assure you. You can keep your concealed weapon in it’s receptacle.”

“You don’t even know my last name.”

“And you don’t know mine. How about we fix that?” he smiles again. He thinks he’s so smooth, you decide.

“I dunno, Dave, I’m a pretty busy gal!”

“I thought you were unemployed?” Oh, he’s got a point…

“Well Dave, we’ve only just met each other.”

“Woah woah woah there, Jade, I never said this had to be romantic. Now look who’s assuming things, making me look bad.” He fakes being offended, and you giggle. Who are you, a pre-teen? You’re twenty-four, you don’t ‘giggle.’

“Okay, I’ll have dinner with you. I’m busy tonight, but tomorrow I have a free evening. I’ll even bring your brother’s phone and keys.”

“Then why don’t we have dinner here? I’m not trying to be forward, just think of it as thanks for bringing Dirk home all safe and sound. My sister Roxy is a fantastic cook.”

“That sounds…nice.” You agree. Dave stands up, and offers you a hand.

“Sounds great. Maybe you want to get here at six? And wear something classy.”

“See? You’re making it sound like a date.”

“How’s a nice dinner with my family a date? Jeez Jade, and you thought I was being the forward one here.”

You blush when he says that, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You’re talking to the door, and Dave opens it for you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says. You nod, and then he closes the door.

\+ + +

Your name is Jade Harley, and you just got invited to a dinner for the first time in two years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Again, I welcome any art or such. If you wanna message me, you can check out my tumblr woodlandeelf.tumblr.com
> 
> As of right now, I'm just gonna post what i've written so far. Once I get caught up, I'll try and post every 2-5 days.


	3. The Fever

It’s three in the afternoon when you get home, and John is in the middle of the living room floor sharpening knives.

“Any particular reason?” You lean against the doorframe, watching your brother focus on his work.

“They were sorta dull. Besides, you and Jake are hunting tonight¬–“

“Ohh no, Jake’s not hunting!” you interrupt, “he got so wasted last night, there’s no way he’ll be thinking clearly even tomorrow.”

“But you can’t go alone!” he protested, “Last time you went alone, you almost lost the target, and you yourself said¬–“

“John, I feel like this is your way of asking if you can come hunting.” John only shrugs, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, you can come. But that means you go do target practice out back until its time to go.”

He waits until he thinks your back is turned, and punches the air.

\+ + + 

Hunting is no simple task. When people ask about the big game guns in your house, you reply simply that your grandfather was a world famous hunter, who passed the hobby onto you and your cousin. But once you open the door to the downstairs cellar, hunting takes on a whole new term. Your world changed forever the spring your grandfather died, and so did your hunting style. 

Demons, monsters, and half-breeds plague the Earth. Your grandpa never had to fight a force such as these until his final hour, but the skills he taught you were useful enough.

Your grandfather was killed by a vampire, as was your father. Jake’s mother and father were killed by werewolves, both just months after Jake’s birth. Trolls killed Jane’s parents four years ago, and your mother and John’s dad were killed six years ago by vampires. You and Jake began the new Harley-English family tradition of hunting these supernatural creatures as means of protecting the world. You keep to yourselves about it, though–don’t want anyone telling the public media now do we?

But back to hunting. Demons must me exorcised from whatever body they are occupying, but getting the body to stay still long enough is incredibly difficult. Demons are weakened by holy water, salt, and silver in its purest form. Demons are fairly abundant, and unfortunately there are not enough hunters in the world to kill them all. Though it’s not very often that one will cause trouble for humans; usually, they just want to live like normal humans.

Monsters can be anything. From things like Frankenstein’s creation to Slenderman, they take any and all forms of mythical or legendary monsters. Their prey are usually large animals, like livestock, but will on occasion attack a human if they’re hungry enough. They can be killed easily; monsters are just as mortal as humans.

Half-breed is a completely general term for a wide category of supernatural creatures. Half-breed means anything that was once human, and lives in a humanoid form. In this category are vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, and typical animal/human crossbreeds. All half-breeds are immortal. But immortality comes at a cost, and that cost is having to drink human blood. And you know the whole ‘drink animal blood’ is total bullshit, because the magic that began the line of immortal beings made it that way. Jake made the two of you study half-breeds until the two of you knew how to identify every single species. To kill a half-breed, you must either decapitate the head from the body, or pierce the heart with the purest form of silver.

Half-breeds are incredibly tricky, because as precisely mentioned, they can be anything, and it’s sometimes difficult to tell the difference between a human and a half-breed. Vampires are only distinctive by their superhuman ability to run at the speed of sound, their black-rimmed irises, and the fact that they must feed on humans twice as much as any other half-breed. Werewolves can turn into an actual wolf at any time, though the process is incredibly painful and drains them of all energy once they return to human form. Werewolves also lose control of themselves in the half-wolf form. 

Mermaids are also half-breeds, but you’re not gonna go into that.

So here you are, in your room, dressing in all-black and attaching your thigh-holster for your handgun. You lace up your combat boots and stuck throwing knives in the sides of your boots. On your belt you hook on the sheath for your silver-plated hunting knife. 

You tie up your long black hair into a bun and pick up your backpack. Your bedroom windows look out on the back terrace, where you see John throwing knives at a target. You tap loudly on the glass to get his attention before going downstairs. 

Jane and Jake are in the kitchen, and wish you the usual luck on your hunting trip. John meets you in the foyer, already packed and ready to go. 

Jane had found the previous day many signs of half-breed attacks–bodies drained of blood, people in the hospital with open bite marks on their necks, etcetera. That was all happening in Central Park. 

When you have to go into the City, you always wear a long black pea coat to cover the weapons on your body. You can’t do much for your backpack, but at least there are no weapons or obvious supernatural-related hunting items hanging off it.

The sun, thankfully, has set. If the half-breeds are vampires, they’ll be out now. The myth that sunlight burns vampire skin is still true, and there’s no way around it. Though many, to avoid the sun, walk with black parasols and wear clothing that blocks the sun. Typically, vampires wear black clothing to block out the most sunlight, but any clothing type is adequate. So anyone with the knowledge of vampires and other supernatural creatures might suspect that, based on your apparel, you and John were vampires. It’s just one of the ways the two of you blend in to hunt. 

“Which part of the park had the recent attacks?” John asks you, his voice barely above a whisper. Now that you’re there, it’s best to keep your voices down, so as to not tip off any eavesdroppers.

“Jane says by the lake. In the past, there’s been a couple of half-breed covens that feed around there. Jake and I took them out, but some stragglers may have come back. It’s also one of the most popular places for half-breeds to turn other humans into half-breeds.”

“So we could be walking into a feeding frenzy?”

“No, they’re smarter than that. Jake and I have been searching for half-breed covens lately, but we can’t seem to find any in the last year. They’re elusive.”

You know John’s a little worried. He’s better at hunting monsters and demons, not half-breeds. He told you in the past that his biggest fear is to be turned, and you’ve told him time and time again that he won’t be turned as long as he knows who he’s hunting and what to look out for. You also reminded him that half-breeds don’t always want to turn humans; they’re usually just looking for a meal. 

Half-breeds can only be made, and are never born. Once a human becomes a half-breed they are rendered infertile, so their only form of reproduction is to turn humans. It’s not that crucial, though–half-breeds are, again, immortal from feeding on human blood. You yourself have never witnessed the turning of a human, but you’ve definitely seen the after result, and it’s not pretty.

You and John split up and scout the trees surrounding the lake. Its maybe an hour of searching before you hear a little *click* from your watch. It’s something Jake made; the two watches are interconnected by radio signals, and when one person activates theirs, the other watch notifies the wearer to go towards them. The digital screen shows an arrow pointing to your right. You know John’s either in trouble, or got his eyes on a target. Or both. 

The digital compass leads the way as you run through the trees almost soundlessly. When the arrow turns from red to green, you slow down, and slowly make your way through some shrubs, where you find John.

He’s crouched behind a sizeable shrub, and you crawl on all fours to him. He motions for you to look through a gap between the bushes and, sure enough, there are four half-breeds feeding on a long-dead woman. 

The half-breeds appear to be of different species. The female with grey skin and orange horns is most obviously a troll, while the other three are human in appearance. The one who is still feeding on the body is pale-skinned with short platinum blonde hair. The other two are indiscernible as to their species. 

Both you and John take your guns from your holsters. You remove your clip to make sure that your gun has silver-plated bullets loaded in them, then give John the thumbs-up. 

You each fire. The two background half-breeds drop dead, and the troll woman receives two shots to the lung, barely missing the heart. The vampire dodged in the nick of time. A second later, she’s on you, her hands wrapped around your throat. For a moment, you’re terrified–you can’t breathe, and she knocked your gun away. Her mouth is covered in red blood, formed in a snarl, and her dark pink eyes glare down at you. There’s a loud pop in your ear and the vampire leaps, screams, and runs away. You look over and see John aiming his gun at the space above you. You immediately look up to where the troll woman was, and she’s gone. 

“Shit!” you curse, and get up to look for your gun. “Don’t just stand there, go find them!” you scream at John. He stumbles to his feet, then disappears into the darkness of the trees. 

Your gun is under a bush, which takes some crawling to get to. The bodies in the clearing lie in the pale moonlight, and you grimace as you slide between a few shrubs to get to them. Blood trickles from the neck wound on the human woman’s body, and pools in the damp grass below. You fish through the victim’s coat pockets–key ring: five keys; wallet: two credit cards, a Starbucks gift card, New York State drivers license, and forty-seven dollars. You take them. It’s best to make it look like a random mugging, you decide. You’ll dump the personal items in the river on your way back home.

You kick out the teeth of the half-breeds, drag them to a clearing 30 yards away, and burn them. Once the bodies are well ablaze, you reload your clip and prep your gun. Then you run off into the direction John went. 

There’s a long trail of jade green blood that only could have belonged to the troll. Another red trail leads in the same direction–hopefully belonging to the vampire and not John–and you make sure not to leave any footprints behind you as you follow the spatters of blood on the ground. 

It’s dark, and you can barely see as you run, until you run straight into a huge mass of person. 

“John!” you gasp, trying to get air back into your lungs.

“Jade!” They’re gone, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I didn’t expect for you to be able to catch a vampire.”

“It’s my fault, I missed, I only got her in the side–“

“John. Chill. Lets go, there’s no point in running around Central Park with dead bodies nearby. Now c’mon, it’s late, and we still have a job over in Queens. There’s been demonic activity going on in one of the rowhouses.”

\+ + + 

The two of you are home by midnight, tired and dirty. There are traces of blood on both your clothes, and you’ve got forty-seven bucks in your pocket that doesn’t belong to you.

Jane’s in bed, Jake is god-knows-where, and the moment you walk into the house, John trudges upstairs in a half-asleep state. You drop your stuff down in the cellar, throw your coat in the laundry shoot, and slide the suspender straps off your shoulders so that they hang loosely at your thighs like the douche bag poser you aren’t. You walk slowly to the main floor office, trailing your hand along the sideboard of the corridor wall. 

The main floor office, or The Wood Room for all the mahogany furniture inside, belonged to your Grandfather when he was still alive. You and Jake usually like to keep it locked, but once in awhile you’ll go in, pour a scotch and toast on his would-be birthday. Other times you’ll go in to retrieve a document, or just go to get away. 

Tonight, you’re toasting. Jake is inside when you open the door. It’s unexpected, but welcomed. He holds two glass decanters of liquor, and holds one out for you.

“Eight years today.” He mutters. You take the drink, and the two of you bitterly swallow a mouthful.

“It seems like so long ago.”

“Eight years is still a long time. Almost a decade.”

“It feels like forty.” You take another sip. Jake does the same.

“It’s almost ironic.” He snorts.

“What is?”

“You taking a job the same day¬–“

“I’ve taken jobs before, this is no different. Besides, we lost two half-bloods.”

“But you also had a demon?”

“At least John didn’t fuck that one up.”

“Come on, Jade. You know he’s trying.”

“It was point blank, Jake! I know he’s trying, but when there’s a clear shot to the heart from two feet away and you sink it in the hip? How blind can you be?”

“Are you alright dear Jade? You seem to be irritated for the last month, especially when it comes to hunting.”

“I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Then you should go to bed. Actually get more than five hours tonight, all right? I worry about you, cousin.”

“I’ll be fine. Good night, Jake. Happy Deathday, Grandpa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we get a look on hunting! What do you guys think?


	4. The Host

You were ready by five in the evening, already dressed in a light green sundress with a black cardigan. You decided to wear black ballet flats. Jane was home in time to braid your hair into a bun before you go.

You take the silver Cadillac, which drives fast but smoothly. It’s also the only vehicle you yourself have that isn’t stocked with weaponry.

++++

Once in the city, you park in an underground parking garage near Dirk and Dave’s apartment. At six’o’clock in the late March evening, the sky is only beginning to darken. It feels like a good night for a walk, or even a hunt…

Dirk buzzes you into the building, and in the elevator, you smooth the folds of your dress. Dave is waiting for you by his door when the doors slide open.

“Hey Jade.” Dave smiles from behind his dark sunglasses. “Nice dress. Come on in, Roxy’s about to pour some wine.” 

Dave is dressed in a black and white striped dress shirt and cream-colored pants. Though despite his fancy wear, he walks barefooted. 

You leave your shoes by the door, and follow Dave to the open living space. Dirk is similarly dressed to Dave, with a white dress shirt, black pants. He, at least, is wearing orange converse shoes.

At the kitchen counter, with a large wine glass in one hand and a bottle in the other, stands a tall blonde woman. Her curly blonde hair is tucked under a black bowler hat, and a silver knee-length dress compliments her angular profile.

“Roxy, this is Jade. Jade; Roxy.”

“Hello,” Roxy walks out from behind the counter, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” You shake her hand. Her dress is beautiful–it’s a very 1950’s style, flared at the bottom and short-sleeved. You suddenly feel inadequate in your simple chiffon sundress. 

You’re given a rather large glass of wine, and settle into a large white leather armchair in the living space with the rest of the Striders. Dave explains that Rose has work tonight playing at a private party, and won’t be joining them.

You learn that the Striders were born and raised in Dallas, Texas, where their family lived. Their father used to own a gas company, which explained how well off they are. Dirk is the eldest, with Roxy only a year younger than him. Dave and Rose are twins, and only two years younger than Roxy. Their parents apparently still reside in Dallas, though they never see them anymore.

At eight, the four of you sit down to dinner at the large glass dining table. Dave sits next to you, and tells you many jokes to which you can’t help but laugh. Roxy is starting to become visibly drunk, and Dirk and Dave trip her and catch her just before she falls. 

“I don’t think you should drive tonight,” Dave tells you at eleven, “you’ve had four glasses of wine.”

“I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.” You roll your eyes, and almost trip on the edge of the rug by the couches. Dave gives you a look. “If you’re so worried about me, I’ll just call my John brother–er–my brother John.”

“That would be a good idea.” He goes to find your purse as you return to talking with Roxy. 

The Striders are possibly the closest thing to possible friends you can imagine. Sure, you have your family, but you know that’s just not quite the same. You don’t exactly enjoy clubbing with your cousin, or drinking with your brother, or shopping with your other cousin. Roxy is fun to be around, Dirk enjoys pop culture, and Dave is all about politics (despite being a DJ for various high-end clubs and parties). Finally a group of people who aren’t all hyped up about demons, monsters and half-breeds.

You and Roxy are talking when you look over at Dirk, and notice him staring at you. 

“Is Dirk alright?” you whisper to Roxy. Dirk gets distracted by something Dave is doing, and gets up from the sofa and goes to the kitchen. 

“I think he’s just embarrassed,” she sighs, “ It’s not every day he gets driven back from a one-night stand by his momentary lovers’ cousin, who then gets invited by his brother for dinner. If I were him, I’d be pretty off too.”

“I guess.” You shrug. “He just seems moody.”

“Well, that’s just Dirk’s personality.” Roxy laughs drunkenly. You’re interrupted from replying by your phone buzzing, showing a message from John.

**[11:27 PM] [From: John]**  
 **Sorry Jade, Jake and I are just as drunk as you are. Jane’s asleep, too.**

“Getting a ride?” Roxy swallows the last bit of wine in her glass.”

“No, inebriated family. I’ll just call a taxi–“

“Nonsense, suh-weet cheeks. Just sleep it off here! Besides, more party time!” Roxy cheers, and jumps up to go fill up her glass. Her hat nearly falls off, and Dave and Dirk drop their glasses. The room becomes dead silent, as Roxy keeps the hat pulled over her head. Whatever shocked her, she looks 10 times more sober now, her eyes practically bulging from her head.

The four of you stand in awkward silence, until Roxy starts to laugh. Dave and Dirk let out the breaths they must have been holding, and Dave crouches down behind the counter to pick up the broken glass. Dirk rushes over to Roxy and starts scooting her to the hallway. You remain seated on the sofa, terribly confused. 

“What was all that about?” you turn around to face Dave’s direction.

“She’s just really drunk.” He stands up and shrugs. But there’s something to his voice, like it’s strained¬–like he’s nervous.

You stand up. “Here, let me help you with that.” You walk over to pick up the broken glass shards with him. Dave hands you a dishcloth to pick them up with, which works well for the most part. One piece slips and slices your finger. Crimson red blood begins to ooze from the inch-long cut. As you curse loudly, Dave grabs your wrist, staring intently at your bleeding finger for only a moment.

“We should get that cleaned.” He chokes out, and drops your hand. He stands straight up, and turns away from you. As he gets a paper towel to soak up the blood, he refuses to look at both you and your hand. “Here.”

“Afraid of the sight of blood?” you ask as you take the paper towel from him.

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to get over it.” He swallows, still turned completely away.

“Well, then you may want to move, ‘cause I’m going to wash my hand some.”

“Okay.” He absconds from the kitchen. He comes back with a band-aid for your finger, then leaves again. You’re alone in the Striders’ kitchen, thinking, _there’s something not right here._

Once all the blood is gone, and the band-aid is secured over your cut, Dave re-enters the room.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It’s alright.” You shrug. He comes over to help you throw away the last of the broken glass. You reach out to pick up the last piece (with a dish towel this time), and your hands touch.

You look up at him. He’s kneeling on the floor, his mile-long legs bent under him. His eyes–eyes so brown they’re almost red¬–bore into yours. Your heart is in your throat as he leans forward, closer and closer–

You close your eyes and lean inwards. Your lips touch. The towel holding the glass is discarded unceremoniously on the floor. A hand is on your cheek. Dave’s mouth starts moving. Yours moves in his rhythm, and suddenly you’re on him. His arms are around your back, your hands buried in his platinum hair. Your legs are folded under you, with is spread on either side, and he’s straddling your lap. 

Your tongue brushes over his lips, and he parts them. The rhythm of your kissing becomes the rhythm of your bodies. Your thoughts fly out the window the moment he caresses your jaw, tilting back your head. His hands drop back to your hips, holding them tight.  
The feeling is throughout your body. Your fingers clench at his hair. His arms snake around your waist, and he rises to his feet, pulling you up with him.

“The sofa may be more¬–“

“Yeah” you answer, all but running to the sofa. The second you sit down, he’s on you, pinning you to the seat of the white leather cushions. The butterflies in your stomach threaten to burst through your chest, and the desire in your heart drags you to him. 

Dave’s strong arms hold you tight as he straddles your thighs, kissing up your jaw until he’s biting at your ear. You let out a sigh, feeling the heat pool low in your belly.

You push him to the other side of the couch, taking him by surprise. It’s then that you climb over the tangled mess that are his legs and straddle his hips, and tease the base of his neck with your tongue. He throws his head back, letting you kiss and caress his neck and collarbones. He’s holding your hips, thumbs digging into your hipline, and you can definitely feel his arousal through the fabric of the shorts you wore under your dress.

The click of a door catches your attention, and you snap your head in the direction of the sound. The front door of the Strider apartment opens, and a familiar blonde with short hair enters. 

“You!” she snarls, showing her fangs. The vampire from the previous night rushes you, ripping you off Dave, throwing you against the wall with a whack. She comes at you, but you duck as her fist goes straight through the wall where your head once was. You dash towards the kitchen counter and grab the butcher knife. Dave is shouting in the background, but you can’t hear him. There’s too much adrenaline in your veins. 

The vampire rushes you again, her fangs out, and you stab her in the chest. The knife isn’t silver, and though it doesn’t do much damage, she still feels the pain. She screams, and punches you in the stomach, sending you reeling to the floor. As you gasp for air, she pins you to the floor, the kitchen knife still stuck in her chest.

“STOP!” Dave screams. He rips the vampire off you by her neck, and throws her against the counter with the force of one of them. They snarl at each other, both baring fangs. Dirk and Roxy have re-entered the room. You look at Roxy, and notice the black panther ears and tail that were hidden before. You look back to Dave, who’s done snarling at the vampire and is staring incredulously at you.

“Why’d you try and kill my sister?” he shouts at you. Then it dawns on you; the vampire is Rose. Rose, Dave’s twin sister.

“Dave, she’s a fucking hunter!” Rose points at you. Right now, you could puke–you’re in the home of four half-breeds, one of them being out for your blood. And you just made out with her brother, and let him near your skin with his teeth.

Your instincts kick in. With no weapons, all you can do is flee. You race to your purse on the sofa, and run from the apartment, leaving your shoes behind.

In the elevator, you crouch on the floor to catch your breath. As soon as the doors open, you run out the building and down the street to the car park, where you tear out onto the city street as fast as you can. 

You don’t care that you’re speeding while intoxicated; you get home in half the time it took you to get there. It’s almost 1 am, and as soon as you’re in the driveway, you jump out of the car and bolt to the garage. In the black truck is your shotgun rifle, fully loaded. You grab it. There’s a fluttering sound behind you. You turn on your bare heels and cock the gun, ready to shoot, pointing it into the face of your assailant. 

Dave stands behind you, breathing heavily, a pair of large, grey-and-white feathered wings stretched out on either side of him.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t just shoot you right now.” You spit. He’s an Avian, a type of half-breed with wings that fold into their backs, despite their large size. Avians can fly as fast as a helicopter, and are able to resist cloud-level atmospheric conditions. You personally have never killed one; then again, you’ve never kissed one either.

“’Cause I’m nice?”

You shove the muzzle of the rifle under his chin. 

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m sorta evil, you’re a hunter, it’s the goddamn circle of life. Can you please point that somewhere else? No? Okay. Well then, I guess I don’t really have much to say to you to keep you from blowing my head off. I drink human blood; sometimes kill humans, the whole shebang. I invited you tonight so I could feed from you. I’m really sorry for that, I didn’t know you were a hunter. Maybe the whole ‘concealed weapons’ thing should have triggered me. But then I got to know you. And, well, I think you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. Hey, I’m being honest, don’t give me that look. So I didn’t want you there anymore. I wanted you to go home.

“But Roxy–she’s a Felinic, if you didn’t guess–she wanted you to stay. She wanted to drink from you, and I wouldn’t allow it. I told Dirk, and when she almost revealed her ears, he promised me he would keep her away from you.

“And then you cut your finger. I–I couldn’t help myself. I had to get out of there, but I can’t control my actions when I’m Rushed. That’s why I couldn’t look at you, or let you see how red my eyes were getting. That’s why I kissed you,” he stepped closer, his wings slowly enclosing around the two of you, “The beast inside wanted to sink my teeth into your veins, to drink your blood. But I couldn’t.” he reaches out to caress your cheek, “I just couldn’t.”

“Get the hell away from me.” You snarl, and knee him in the groin. Dave groans in pain as he falls to his knees, and his wings retract into his back while he holds his crotch in pain.

You run to the house, close and lock the door, and turn on every alarm system you’ve got.

You run up to your room and shut the curtains. You finally rest the rifle on the window seat after what feels like hours of pacing. 

You don’t sleep tonight.

You don’t sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say about this.... :P


	5. The Rain

You haven’t left the property for six days. John and Jake haven’t had any jobs either, and they spend most of their time trying to get John to learn to hunt actual wild game in the shooting range. Jane has been terribly busy with work, being away from home for sometimes 14 hours in a day. You haven’t told anybody about what happened at dinner with the Striders. As far as your family knows, the Striders were nice, but you never really connected with them, and don’t think you’ll be seeing them again.

You’ve been productive, though; cleaning all the guns, fixing any repairs to the trucks, practicing shooting and throwing knives in the shooting range. You cleaned the whole house for the first time in a year, sorted your clothes into three different closet/dresser/armoire sections for “Hunting”, “Practical”, and “Formal”. Better than just having them scattered around on the floor.

When Jane isn’t at work or sleeping, you talk to her about hunting. She never seems to get demonic or supernatural activity at the Crocker Corp. offices, but she still carries her gun in a holster under her skirt, or on her ankle if she’s wearing a pantsuit. The two of you are thick as thieves. You know practically everything there is to know about each other. Except for, of course, the Strider Family secret you’ve been keeping. 

You don’t know why you haven’t just gone and killed them all. You know who they are, what they do, where they live. You tell yourself you didn’t want to kill them because there are too many, especially since they’re all half-breeds. But you know it’s because they’re your friends. Or rather, they were. Dirk was a bit too reserved around you, and all Roxy wanted to do was drink your blood. Rose just wanted you dead. So, you suppose, only Dave is your friend. Was. Dave was your friend. And then he tried to seduce you for your blood.

You could do it, though. You could bring your whole family to their apartment and just wipe them out. But what good would that do? Yeah, four less half-breeds in the world. But Dirk and Dave aren’t all bad. Roxy was kind, but you know she also had ulterior motives. 

Plus, Jake slept with Dirk. You never saw any bitemarks on him after that, and if there were, Jake would have told you immediately. So Dirk knew his boundaries and limits. Perhaps he drank from someone else at the club that night. Either way, how do you kill someone who you have come to know?

You’re sitting cross-legged on the library floor when Jane barges in with her laptop.

“Our little friend from downtown just messaged me, he’s got information about a mass feeding later tonight.” She strides over the carpet to you to show you the e-mail. The email is from carcinoGeneticist@pester.com, a family friend and fellow hunter.

“Is Karkat going to join us on this hunt?” you close the book you had been reading, making sure to dog-ear it for later.

“He says he’s heading over now. I think all five of us should go.” Jane closes the laptop and looks you in the eyes.

“What’s that look for? Of course I wanna go, don’t look at me like that, Janey!” you stand up and place your book on the shelf. “Come on, lets get dressed.”

++++

The plan is simple; dress like vampires, go in after the rest of the half-breeds, and when the time is prime, take them all out. No survivors. The unlucky humans being feasted on will get medical attention and dropped off anonymously at the nearest clinic or hospital.

Both you and Jane wear black skinny jeans, black shirts, and black coats to conceal your guns. Jake and John are dressed almost the exact same way. You all carry two handguns with silver plated bullets, and carry silver-plated knives.

The four of you are just getting on your coats when the doorbell rings. John opens the door, and Karkat enters with his usual look of apathy. His shaggy bleached-blonde hair is pulled up into a red beanie cap, and he takes it off when he enters the room. Karkat is tall–almost abnormally tall–and thin as a twig. He has one of those faces where, if he smiled, he would be one of the most handsome men in the world. But he almost never smiled. And he became the tall, dark and mysterious kind of handsome.

“Lets go, guys. We gotta recon before we go in and kill the fuckers.” He unceremoniously shouts at the four of you. You adjust the knife in your boot and follow him out, your family behind you.

John met Karkat in high school, around the time you started teaching him hunting. Karkat’s family raised him since childhood as a hunter, though they didn’t die like your family did; things went wrong on a job, and his father and brother were turned. They became Trolls, and Karkat never saw them again. This happened about six years ago.

Half-breeds are the biggest problem in high-population places like New York City. Monsters tend to live mainly in rural areas and woods, while demons don’t usually cause trouble. They’re more of a nuisance than a problem, since they mainly possess the bodies of humans to try and live a normal life.

But half-breeds? They’re dangerous. They can’t not drink human blood, and if they didn’t drink for a week, they’d die of starvation. Human blood is the only food source that actually makes a difference in their hunger, and it keeps them immortal. And what better place to have an almost endless supply of warm bodies to feed on than New York? That’s where you and the other hunters come in.

The location you’re all going to is some sort of nightclub owned by vampires. It’s evening now, and the party-goers are just starting to arrive. By midnight, according to Karkat, the half-breeds will one-by-one lead the humans to the basement for a “VIP Dance Party” which will eventually turn into a feeding frenzy. The five of you will pretend to be half-breeds, specifically vampires, and in doing so will go undetected before you exterminate them. 

Jane and Jake are the first through the steel door to the club at 12:17 AM. Then you and Karkat lead past them though the club; it’s empty, save the bartender, who can clearly see through your disguise.

“Hey, you can’t be here–“ the bartender shouts. Karkat silenced her with a silver bullet to her heart. The vampire drops to the floor with a sickening thud behind the counter. The other two half-breeds run out the front door at vampire-speeds, knowing they can’t win in this fight.

“Downstairs. Jake, you first, then Jane behind. John and I will double-team while Jade brings up the rear. Sound good to everyone?” Karkat whispers. You all nod, and prepare your guns. Jake quietly opens the doors to the basement stairs, and he’s going down in a flash. Jane’s close behind, and then Karkat and John go. You follow.

It’s dark until Jake opens the door to the basement dance room. There’s still club music playing, as well as lights flashing, but there’s a sort of unpleasant sound just under the music, sounds that resonate pain and pleasure at the same time. The sound of the life being sucked out of a person is unmistakable, and you can hear it everywhere. But it’s soon drowned out by gunfire and screaming. You can’t count the number of half-breeds in the room, but it’s got to be around twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Bodies drop as the five guns in the room release their bullets. Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. 

The basement is huge, and some of the half-breeds try to escape to the corners to hide. The five of you split up while various half-breeds try and kill you, or get killed by you. It always ends up being the latter.

In the frenzy, you see an Avian with their wings fully open still feeding on a young woman, who is too drained of blood to be saved. The wings of the Avian obstruct your view of where their heart is, or even their head. You shoot blindly; it goes straight through their wing.

But you got their attention. They spin around, snarling and baring red-soaked fangs with their mouth and chin covered in blood. Its eyes are glazed over red, and the skin around it is red and dark. Its bodily posture is feral and menacing, and it’s lunging right for you.

It’s Dave.

You’re stunned at first, then you shoot.

The bullet sinks into his shoulder, and the second almost hits his heart. You don’t have time for a third; he’s kicked you in the stomach, and you’re gasping on the floor. You kick at his shins, and manage to trip him. When he falls, he wrestles for the gun in your hands. 

Could you do it, though? Could you kill Dave? But this isn’t Dave, you remind yourself. This is the Beast. The bloodthirsty animal within. Dave isn’t there, those aren’t his eyes.

He wrings the gun free from your hands, and you grab for the knife in your coat pocket. With it, you slash it across his chest, and fresh blood soaks his grey t-shirt. You attempt another stab, but he grips your wrist, twisting it until the knife drops. Then he’s pressing the tip of your gun straight into your forehead.

All you can feel is fear. 

He blinks, and the crazed, animalistic look in his eyes fades, and he lowers the gun. You don’t have time to react, when a sharp pain explodes when something hard hits the back of your head–

++++

When you wake, you’re lying limp on the floor, something heavy laid over you. When you touch it, it’s soft and bumpy, which ends and layers, like feathers.

Wings.

You lift the wing off you, and see the basement room is gone, and replaced by a rooftop lit only by the dim, cloudy morning sky. 

Dave is lying next to you, face-down in the gravel. Blood soaks his shoulder, and stains a large part of his light grey wing.

As you sit up, you pat yourself down; your weapons and phone are gone.

“Sorry.” You hear a muffled, strained voice say. You look over at Dave and see him starting to lift himself off the ground. His face, neck and arms are covered in scratches and bite marks. “I wasn’t exactly in control of the majority of my actions last night.” His arms give out, and he falls back on the ground. His wings are spread out loosely, like they were broken.

“Where are my things?” you stand up and look around the rooftop. It’s the roof of the building that hosts the nightclub, so you haven’t gone far.

“You better lie low, the police are in the building.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps some neighbors heard gunshots? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” he rolls his eyes at you. You sit back down, listening only to the wind, the traffic of the city, and Dave’s shallow, pained breathing.

“How’d you get every knife off me?” you glare at him.

Dave shrugs. “I do weird shit when I’m Rushed. I’m not quite sure where I left them. Somewhere.”

“And we can’t leave until the police are gone?”

“Bingo.”

“Why didn’t you just _fly_ yourself out of here?” you cross your arms.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he gestured to his limply outstretched wings, “they’re broken.”

“How?”

“Well, you shot one, and when I tried to carry you out of the fight, I got jumped by a couple of werewolves looking for dessert. They did the rest.” He grunted, and tried to sit back up. 

“Why didn’t you just leave me in the first place? My family woulda taken care of me.”

“Did you not hear me? I do weird shit when I’m Rushed. Weird shit including saving a hunter’s life and not once thinking about leaving her in a room full of dying half-breeds looking for a quick fix.”

“So if you had the choice, you’d leave me to die? Oh, thanks, that’s real nice.” 

“What? That’s not what I meant at all–“

“Save it.” You scowl. Dave slumps his shoulders, then winces in pain at the movement of his wings. He can’t retract them. The broken bones are keeping him from folding them, or moving them in the first place. So he sits there, trying to shuffle his wings into a position with which he can sit comfortably. It was almost pitiful. 

“You know,” he looked over to you, “if you straightened out my wings for me, hey might heal faster. And we can get out of here faster.”

“More like you’d just ditch me here on the roof.” You roll your eyes.

“No really, if you do that, I’ll even tell you where your weapons are.”

You eye him for a moment. There’s always the chance that he’s bluffing, and he actually doesn’t remember where he put your knives, gun and cellphone, and he’s only playing you to get you to fix his wings so he can escape and leave you behind. 

There’s also the chance that he’s telling the truth.

You get up from the ground and walk around behind him. His wings are white with grey insets, each looking about 7 feet long. They lay at awkward angles on the roof ground, one being partially blood-soaked. You reach down and touch his left wing, nearest to his shoulder; the inside feathers are soft, like down. With both hands, you lift one wing. It’s surprisingly light. You start walking backwards, slowly but surely straightening out his left wing. Dave flinches, gasps and yelps as you move the broken bones. Once you reach the tip, you slowly rest it on the ground. You quickly run your fingers over the outer feathers; they’re tough, like plastic.

You do the same with the other wing, though a bit more cautiously. The blood on it is long dried, but moving the wing re-opened the wound. Dave rips a piece of his sleeve off so you can press on the wound. 

When they’re straightened out, they look much longer than you thought. He appears to have a sixteen-foot wingspan, and if he weren’t a disgusting bloodsucker, you might appreciate them more. 

“Alright,” you walk around him to be face-to-face, “where’s my stuff?”

Dave smirks. “Behind the stairwell opening, under some gravel.”

You glare at him, but go towards it anyways. The small structure on the roof with its singular door is in the far corner, quite a ways away from where Dave is sitting down. You stare him down one last time before quickly moving over to it.

There is, in fact, a mound of gravel pebbles beside it. The gravel around it is pushed around and disturbed, most likely by Dave’s broken wings when he buried your things in the first place.

When you recover them, you slip your knives into their receptacles, but keep hold on one. Dave must still have your gun, since you can’t find it, or your cellphone.

You return to him, and then hold the edge of the long silver blade against his throat, making a long, red line skirt across his Adam’s apple. 

“Give it to me.” You snarl. 

“Why? So you can kill me?” He raises an eyebrow at you, unfazed by the knife. “You could kill me with that big ‘ol knife of yours. But you won’t.”

“Oh, I won’t?” you narrow your eyes at him, sarcasm practically dripping from every word.

“No, because I know your type. You’re too gentle to kill a wounded animal, even if they’re a bloodsucking beast like me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What did I do to you? What does _anyone_ do?” His voice suddenly becomes angry, “We try to survive. I can’t _live_ without drinking human blood. Yeah, I feel horrible for it, but it’s the truth. It’s what I am. And you’re no better than us! You don’t kill for survival, you kill because you _want to._ Your hideous self-righteousness makes you think the world needs you hunters. I bet until now, you’ve never heard a half-breed speak like they have rights like any other person, ‘cause you’re too busy killing them all!”

“Shut up.” You glare.

“Why? Because you don’t like to hear the truth?” Dave stands up and towers over you. “Then you may wanna plug your ears Jade, because I’m gonna tell you the truth. I’m gonna tell you _why_ my siblings and I are the way we are.

“Our parents died in a vampire attack in 1941. Rose wasn’t killed, but she was turned. After the tragic slaughter of our parents, none of us wanted her to have to live for eternity without her family. So we found half-breeds and begged them to turn us. The only reason why I don’t hate myself for having to drink blood every three days is that I can spend eternity with my family. That’s the truth. I didn’t become this way because I wanted to kill people, drink blood, or have these fucking wings. I’m this way because I love my family too much. That’s the truth.”

To admit, you’re a little surprised. You stare at Dave a moment longer, then open your mouth to speak.

“I hunt because every parent my family and I ever had were killed by half-breeds. My cousin and I watched our grandfather die at the hand of a vampire.”

“Revenge doesn’t heal wounds.”

“But it does help with the burning hatred I feel every second of the day.” You stare into Dave’s reddish-brown eyes. He’s trying to figure you out, you can tell, with his eyes. As if you had your whole persona written across your face.

“Instead of thinking about the dead, try and focus on the living. You have your cousins and your brother, all alive and well. So live with them.”

“It’s not that simple!” you rub your forehead, and flop onto the ground like a child. Dave crouches down next to you, and flutters his wings. 

“Then what? Why do you have to kill?”

“Because I have to protect people,” you breathe, “I have to protect others from becoming me. From becoming this hate-filled person that I am.”

“But you can stop.” Dave moves such that he is looking directly at you, crouched down to your level.

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes you can, Jade.” 

“You can’t protect the good from the bad without a gun.”

“Then how about this,” he gently pulls the knife that you forgot you were holding from your hands, “you will only kill half-breeds if you absolutely must, and I will only kill humans if I absolutely must. Does that sound fair?”

“It goes against everything I believe in.” You rub your temples. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“If I can, you can.” 

You search his eyes for any hint of resistance, any sign that he might be lying. 

“It’s a deal.” You decide.

Dave smiles. “Then I’ll do my very best to feed and not kill.”

The sky grows darker, and fat raindrops begin to patter down on the city. Dave reaches behind himself, grimacing as he drags his still-healing wing and holds it over your head until it can support itself. He is able to move the left on it’s own, and keeps that one over his own head.

“Fast healing, huh?”

“Benefits of being immortal, I guess.”

The rain starts falling harder.

“So…why can’t you just fly out of here?”

“I hate flying in the rain.” He readjusts his wings, now that they’re mostly healed, to better cover the two of you. You watch his face as he stares at the rest of the city, and you wrap your arms around your knees, keeping yourself closed off.

What are you doing?


	6. The Trial

The rain stopped after half an hour, and Dave got the two of you off the roof by him holding you around the waist and parachuting down into the back alley by folding his wings into a cup-like formation. He was unfazed by it, as it was a natural occurrence for him. For you, however, it was…terrifying.

Though getting off the roof and onto solid ground has it’s benefits, it overstretched Dave’s still healing wings, and you had to help him retract them by folding them slowly. Again, it was a very new experience, seeing as you’d normally be shooting half-breeds rather than helping them.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Dave reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, and from the back waistband of his jeans he retrieves your gun. “Don’t try to kill me again, please.” He half-jokes.

“I won’t.” You take your things. You click your phone on, and see over thirty missed calls from John, Jane, Jake, and Karkat, respectively. “I should try and get home before nine, or they might send out a missing persons report.”

“Need a lift?”

“I’ll just call them.” You shake your head, unwilling to fly again. You dial John’s number, and Dave turns around to look up and down the alley. That’s when you notice his t-shirt has two long rips in the back. Being an Avian, he probably ruins a lot of shirts like that. 

_”Jade ohmygod–“_

“John, just come pick me up. I’ll be across the street from the nightclub. I’m fine.” And then you hang up on him.

“You’re not gonna tell them about me, are you?” Dave turns back around, nervous, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

“I think if I so much as mentioned it, they’d be on your tail faster than I could say ‘oops,’” you tease, “your secret is safe.”

You start walking away to get out of the alley when Dave lightly puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he says as you turn around, “I’m sorry about last night. I never wanted you to see me like that, or to hurt you like that. Though I’m sure shooting me three times made it pretty justified.”

You snort, and brush his hand off your shoulder. “Bye Dave. I’ll see you around.” And you turn away, walking down the alley towards the street, not once looking back.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Where the hell have you been?” John exclaims as you get into the black truck. Stuffed into the back seat are Jane, Jake, and Karkat.

“I got knocked out in the firefight and woke up in the back alley.” You shrug. As soon as you say it, you realize that may not have been the best thing to say.

“What the FUCK?!” Jane shouts, and you mildly wonder if her head is about to pop off. “Are you even OKAY? Were you bit, or hurt, or hell were you raped or turned?”

“I’m fine!”

“Jade, it’s been seven hours since we last saw you!” Karkat grips your shoulder, then relaxes his hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You brush his hand off. John is driving the truck onto the Brooklyn Bridge to Long Island.

“What do you remember?” Jake asks. Images of Dave snarling at you, hunched over the dead and drained body of a young woman, then kicking you in the stomach and holding your own gun to your forehead flashes in your mind.

“I just got knocked out by someone behind me and woke up in the back alley under a dumpster. There isn’t much to remember. Maybe someone thought I was dead and tried to get rid of me.” You flat-out lie.

“And you’re fine?” he asks.

“All except for this nasty bump I feel on the back of my head.” 

“We’re checking you when we get home.” Jane warns.

“Do you have your gun?” Karkat asks.

“Yeah, here.” You pull it out, and he takes it and immediately removes the clip.

“And your knives?”

“What the hell for? Why’d you take my gun?”

“Because if you were in fact turned, and you just don’t know it–“

“Yeah, because my first instinct would be to attack my family of _hunters_. Don’t be stupid, Karkat.”

“See?” he looks at John, “this is why she shouldn’t be in shotgun. She’s rude and volatile.”

“And sitting _right in front of you._ ” you turn around and glare at him.

“Shut up the BOTH of you!” John shouts, “or I swear to God I’ll stop this car and kick you two out.”

You put your hands up to say _hey, I’m innocent here_ and Karkat gruffs behind you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As soon as you get home, Jane rushes you upstairs to your room, where she all but tears off your coat and shirt. She’s looking everywhere for a bite mark, and orders you to take off your pants. Again, she looks everywhere.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had to be frisked down to be checked for bite marks. In the past, before Jane or John joined the family, you and Jake had to check each other all over. You’d think that growing up together would make that less awkward; it doesn’t.

Half-breeds turn humans into other half-breeds by releasing venom through microscopic pores in their fangs. The venom comes from a gland right above the roof of the mouth, and is only released by the willful release of such venom. Once it enters the human’s bloodstream, they have twelve hours left as a human before they start transitioning, and to complete a transition, they must drink a human dry. 

It’s a big deal to be bit by a half-breed, because sometimes when they’re Rushed, they lose control of their ability to contain the venom. And there is absolutely no way to reverse being turned. The venom destroys every vital cell in the body, which can only be reversed by the consumption of human blood. It is thus that a half-breed must regularly drink human blood to keep themselves alive. If a half-breed does not feed for five days, their body starts to break down from the inside out. After two weeks, they die, their body appearing as if they had already decomposed. 

And since there is no way to reverse being turned, your only option is to experience the excruciating pain and being forced to live forever as a blood-sucking freak, or you can blow your brains out and end it then and there.

“You’re fine.” Jane sighs in relief, so you put on your undergarments, step into sweatpants, and pull on a loose t-shirt.

“I told you.” You shrug.

You leave Jane in your room and run downstairs. Karkat is crashed on the couch, tapping his foot in anticipation. John is drumming his fingers on the arms of a large chair, while Jake paces impatiently on the Persian rug in the front living room. He’s the first to look up the large staircase and see you.

“Jade!” he runs up and hugs you. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” His arms are tight around you, and his face is buried in your neck. You’d normally be pretty out-off by this unusual affection, but then you remember. You are his only real, living family left; Jane and Jake are only related to you, and while you’ve all been living under the same roof for a few years now, they’re nothing compared to you. It’s like yours and John’s relationship; you never even knew John existed until a letter came in the mail, notifying you that you had a brother that you had legal obligations to take care for. Jake was your family since you were infants, and you are the last of his.

“I’ll always be okay.” You hold your cousin tight. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you see John at your eye-level. He wraps his arms around you and Jake, making a group hug of sorts. Jane comes down the stairs behind you and also joins the hug.

Karkat stands in the large corridor, hands in his pockets. You smile at him. He gives you a weak smile back, and retreats into the direction of the kitchen. 

You were right about him earlier. When he smiles, he’s one of the most handsome people in the world.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When your relatives finally let go of you, you tiptoe into the kitchen, where you see Karkat leaning against the kitchen counter, staring intently at the coffee maker. 

“A watched pot never boils.”

“Bullshit.” He doesn’t look up when he speaks. You walk around him to get a mug from the cupboard.

You put the mug down next to the coffee maker, and hoist yourself up to sit on the countertop. Many moments pass until the coffee maker whirred, pouring pure black coffee into the pot. Karkat fills both your mug and his, and he leans back against the counter.

“You may have fooled your cousins,” he starts, “but I know you didn’t just wake up in the alley. I searched that alley up and down three times over and you weren’t there any of those times. So what really happened?”

You stare at him in shock while he casually sips his drink.

“Well?”

“I–I don’t–“

“Spit it out, Jade. I’m not trying to judge you, I just wanna know why you lied.”

“I told you guys what happened. I got knocked out, and woke up in the alley. There’s nothing more to it!”

“That’s what you say now. I’ll get the truth out of you someday.”

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re a liar. It’s a wonder why we’re both still single.”

You stick your tongue out at him. He smirks, the smile only lasting a second before returning to its constant frown.

“I suppose I should leave soon, the job is over and done–“

“No, stay!” you smile, “at least for breakfast. You’ve been up all night, it’s probably not even safe for you to drive.” Karkat stares you down, then sighs.

“Fine. You’re lucky my relationship with your family isn’t strictly professional.”

“Yeah, we go waaay back.” You nod. Since Karkat and john met in the 10th grade, the two have been best friends. Though, in recent years, he’s been much more absent. It started when Karkat’s family was turned, and he got himself into hunting. Secretly, you’ve always thought it was your fault. Or, at least, you thought it was the fault of your family’s “curse” that Karkat suffered the same fate as you did.

“I won’t call six years ‘way back’, but whatever toots your horn.” He shrugs. “Can we eat now? I’m fuckin’ starved.”

++++++++++++++++++

Karkat left home that afternoon after eating and sleeping for a couple of hours. Everyone in your house remained asleep, exhausted after the fight and the all-night search for you.

You remained holed-up in the library, lounging on the couch with a book in your lap. A warm blanket rests on your shoulders, and you can hear the old house creak and settle on its foundation.

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a sudden knock on the library door.

“What?!”

“It’s me, Jane.” She pokes her head in, then enters the room fully. She hops over to you and curls up next to you on the couch, snuggling up in your large blanket. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reply, “I just can’t sleep. Not very tired.”

“I wouldn’t assume so, not with what you went through last night.”

“Hmm.” You nod. A moment passes before you speak.

“Jane,” you start, “what would you have done if I’d actually been turned?”

“Why would you ever think of something like that?” she looks at you as if you grew a second head. “I mean, I’d be devastated, for one thing. I don’t think I’d know how to react.”

“But would you kill me? I’ve heard of other hunters doing that to their partners when they turned.”

“Jade, I won’t wanna talk about it. It’s a gross topic.”

“But why? I mean, aren’t most people turned against their will? Or because they have no other choice?”

“They’re not _people_ , Jade, they’re _monsters_. You said that yourself when you taught me hunting. And there’s always another choice, a better choice, if one is about to or has been turned.”

Her words sting, like a slap in the face. And it’s worse because they’re your own. Your words against you. You think of Dave, and his siblings, only turning into half-breeds seventy-two years ago because they didn’t want Rose to live for eternity without them. And they care about each other–sure, they’re blood-sucking scum, but they have lives and emotions and beating hearts just like you do. That should make them people too, right?

“Jade?” Jane’s soft voice drags you back, “Jade, are you okay? What’s got you talking like this? You know, you said you were fine and not tired, but I think you ought to be getting some sleep.”

“Yeah. Sleep. That’ll set my head straight.”


	7. The Warning

“John, keep your eyes on the target. I’m going in.”

“Roger that, Jake.”

“Jade, you and Jane set up a block. Stop it if it leaves the perimeter.”

“Any preferred method?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“Roger that.”

“Good, I’m almost on top of it…YES!” Jake whips the butterfly net through the air, capturing a bright blue butterfly. “Mission: accomplished!”

The four of you regroup in the rose section of the Imperial Garden, high-fiving each other. Jake releases the butterfly.

“You guys are idiots.” Karkat drones from his lounge chair under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. It’s an unseasonably hot spring day, as well as John’s twenty-first birthday.

“Not idiots, just easily-amused young adults.” John corrects.

“It’s still stupid.”

“It’s also called ‘having fun’. You know, that thing people do?” you roll your eyes, and plop down on the grass next to him. Jane plucks a flower from the garden and places it in her hair and joins you. 

“If your idea of fun is mock-hunting _butterflies_ , then you all are way too into your night jobs.” He swats away a petal that fell from the cherry blossom tree above. 

“Well, we can’t all be as perfect as you!” John grins, and tosses Karkat a soccer ball. “Now c’mon, you were _beast_ at this game. See if you can still get past me!”

“We’ll just have to see, Eg-dork!” Karkat smiles, and jumps up and drops the ball on the ground. The taller, paler man plays keep-away with your brother, who protests at his “illegal moves.” Jane lies down in Karkat’s vacated chair, relaxing in the cool shade.

“I’ll go get drinks for people,” Jake jerks his thumb back at the house, “Jade, will you help?”

“Sure.” You get up and brush loose bits of grass off your skirt, and walk with your cousin back along the gravel pathways to the house.

A back door leads directly to the kitchen, where you get glasses out of the cupboard for Jake to fill with lemonade.

“He looks happier.” Jake comments, looking out the window to watch Karkat and John playing in the field. Karkat trips John, laughs, then gets tripped by John for laughing at him.

“I think the world’s stopped fighting him.”

“I think there’s something else to it.” Jake looks at you meaningfully. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Wha-“

“I’m just saying, maybe you should jump on that opportunity before it passes.” Jake tousles your hair and leaves with the tray of glasses. Your jaw hangs open for a moment before you jump to follow him.

“Jake, what the hell-“

“You chaps want some lemonade?” Jake yells at the boys, ignoring you completely. He rushes past you and sets the tray on the table in the middle of the display of deck chairs. 

John and Karkat reach the table in the shade, and each grab a glass. John brings one to Jane, and you sit down at the table. 

“It’s so hot outside!” John exclaims as he relaxes into another deck chair. “And it’s only April!”

“It’s just a warm spell, we’ll get some normal, rainy spring weather soon.” Jane smiles, sipping happily on her lemonade. She makes a face, and stares at the drink. “What on earth did you spike this lemonade with?”

“Vodka.” Jake smiles, “I figured now that John is twenty-one, he might want to start _legally drinking_ now.”

“And vodka lemonade at two in the afternoon seemed most appropriate, I bet.” Karkat rolled his eyes.

“That it did.” Jake and John clink glasses and drink contently. 

It was one of the first calm days you all have had in months. No issues with supernatural creatures, no brooding emotions or hard feelings. Just you, your family and friend, and the warmth of the sun on your milk-chocolate skin. You could enjoy yourselves for once.

You notice Karkat’s eyes on you. You look up to tell him off, but decide against it when he turns away. A light breeze sifts through the imperial garden, causing the pink petals of the cherry blossom tree to flutter down like snow. 

A petal falls into your lemonade. As you reach in to fish it out, out of the corner of your eye you see Karkat get up. The glass is too narrow for you to reach in, so for many moments you sit there like an idiot with three fingers stretching to reach the liquid, tilting your glass back and forth, trying to get that damned petal out. 

You feel something on your head, and turn to see Karkat putting whole cherry blossoms between the weaves of your French-braided hair. 

“What-“

“Hold on, I’m not finished.” He says, gently turning your head back to face forward. You feel your skin flush when his nimble fingers leave your cheek, and you see Jake smirking at you, waggling his eyebrows. You stick your tongue out at him. 

Karkat takes the long braid at the back of your head and winds it up into a nice coiled bun, and asks Jane for a hairpin. She gives a surprised look, but pulls one from the waistband of her shorts and hands it to him. You bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from blushing as he pins the bun into place, them puts more flowers in your hair. By now, John, Jake, and Jane are all carrying on their own conversation, while Karkat puts the last cherry blossoms he’d picked into your hair. 

“There.” He says when he’s finished, and his fingertips gently brush the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Where’d you learn to style hair like that?” You ask politely, lightly feeling the flowers in your hair.

“My mother,” He tucks a strand of his own hair behind his ear, “she would have me play with her hair when I was younger. Before the accident.”

You’d completely forgotten his mother was killed in the attack that turned his father and brother.

“It’s a very nice bun, thank you.” You look at your family, then back to Karkat. “Do you want to take a walk?”

“Uh, sure.” He stands back up, straightening out his shirt. The two of you leave the Imperial garden patio, and walk down a path to the French garden. The breeze rustles the leaves over the arbor-covered pathway, and the sound is so peaceful you nearly forget Karkat is walking beside you.

“How is your arm?” you ask to break the silence. God, you feel dumb.

“Uh, it’s better. I don’t feel any pain, really.” He shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He’d recently dislocated his shoulder fighting a monster in Brooklyn. 

“That’s good.” You nod. You’re such a dork. Can’t you say anything better? “You look nice today.” Bingo.

“Thanks, I took extra care to look like a complete douchebag this morning.” He says with a mocking tone, flipping his hair across his face. You laugh, of course. “You look nice too. I like not seeing demon blood smeared on your face. Plus, I mean, your hair looks like a pro styled it. That is one top-notch bun.”

“I know, I should go to them more often!” You proudly pat your bun. The two of you pass a daphne odora, and you pluck a sweet-smelling flower and tuck it behind Karkat’s ear. Then you pick a bouquet of flowers to bring back for John later.

While you do spend much of your time hunting and training, the rest of it (which is a good 70% of your time) you spend gardening. It’s your passion – Grandpa said it was something your father loved as well. A family interest, Jake would say.

Jake sometimes helps with gardening. He used to more, before Grandpa died. It’s rare now. Jane simply doesn’t have time, and John’s uninterested. 

The gardens closest to the house are more groomed than the gardens further out. These gardens are much less tended to, and grow wild and free. That’s not exactly your fault; they’ve always been that way. As a child it was fun to run through the vine-covered passageways, over molehills and under spider webs. One spot grew blackberries in the summer, and the bushes have since grown overrun. 

You get pulled from your reverie by cold wind blowing across your skin, making goose bumps spread up your bare arms. When you look to Karkat, you can tell he feels it too.

“Well, isn’t that different.” He rubs his arms to make them warmer, and you look down the pathway, noticing the far away bushes are rustling more violently than the wind is blowing them.

“Look–“

A furry creature breaks through the brush, running straight towards you. Karkat steps in front of you, already holding his switchblade, but you shove him aside. The creature is a wolf, and it comes to a skidding stop at your feet.

 _What the ever-loving fuck_ is the only thing you can think. Karkat is staring at you and the pure-white wolf incredulously, as if he were watching a car crash in slow motion.

The wolf scratches at the ground in front of you, sticks its muzzle into the shallow it made, then runs away as fast as it came.

“What?” Karkat finally says. You bend down to pick up what the wolf had dropped. 

It was a carving of a wolf, about the size of your thumb. It appears to have been whitewashed, as the wood is a shiny, lacquered white. When you turn it over, there is a circular indentation on the wolf’s belly, like it was intended to be hollow. On a whim, you try to pry it open, but it’s stuck.

“I don’t really know.” You narrow your eyes, examining the carving further. 

“There is no way that was a wild wolf. Wild wolves don’t look like that, that had to have been a werewolf. It has to be.”

“Mmhmm.” You reply idly.

“But that means somewhere, half-breeds know where you live–“

“Do you really think that’s what I’m worried about right now?” You give him a dirty look before returning your focus on the wolf carving. There is a diver at the scruff of the neck, just big enough to get a necklace chain through it. You grab at the necklace you’re wearing and all but tear it off.

“What are you doing?!” Karkat takes a step toward you.

“I’m not quite sure.” You slide the globe pendant off the chain and put the carving on. It rests comfortably at your chest, like it belongs there.

“Are. You. Insane?” Karkat touches the wolf carving, and you swat his hand away. “What the hell, Jade? A fucking wolf, which was definitely most likely a werewolf, just came out of fucking nowhere and dropped that at your feet. I mean, that’s fucking _weird_.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, but there was a reason for it.”

“So you put it on your necklace?”

“Why not? This way I won’t lose it. I can keep it safe and in my sight. I won’t be able to lose it, and I’ll know if it gets stolen.”

“Jesus Jade, you’ve been reading way too many fiction novels.” Karkat shakes his head, “You can’t just _do_ something like that. We’ve got to examine it–“

“With what? It’s a wooden carving of a wolf, there’s nothing _to_ examine. And not a single word to my family, all right? They’ll just have the same reaction you did, and they’ll make me take it off.”

“How are you gonna make me keep quiet?” He crossed his arms, pouting his lip a bit.

“I have my ways.” You bite your lower lip. He furrows his brows a bit before he raises them in realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm!” You turn around and flounce down a pathway, which you know leads to the pond. You know he’s following you because you can hear his boots on the gravel pathway. You turned around under the shade of a great oak tree. He catches up to you, then stops, only touching your arm with the tips of his fingers before you dance around him. 

“Hey.” He says calmly, and catches you around the waist, spinning you around to face him, flush against his body. “You run away too much.” You’re breathing increases as your heart speeds up. Karkat brushes his thumb across your jaw, and gently tilts your chin up.

“Jade! Karkat!” you hear Jake’s voice calling through the plants. The two of you break apart just in time to see Jake enter this portion of the gardens through a gate between the Oak grove and the Water Garden. 

“There you are! It’s time to cut the birthday cake!” He beckons towards the house. 

“Maybe some other time.” Karkat whispers to you, sending a shiver down the front of your body. He walks towards Jake first, and you tuck the little wolf carving under the high-collar of your dress, out of sight. You follow the boys through the garden paths back to the Imperial garden. 

Under the shade of the cherry blossom tree, John sits at the table with a blindfold over his eyes, while Jane holds a cake. You hear John complaining about smelling frosting, and how is dad baked cakes nonstop when he was alive. When you walk past him you ruffle his hair, and he flails his arms a bit. Jake lights the candles and Jane puts the cake in front of John. The four of you sing “Happy Birthday” to him, and he blows out the candles on the cake. When he takes off the blindfold, Jake and Karkat push John’s face into the cake. You sit back and laugh as John chases Karkat with a handful of frosting, cake bits falling off his blue frosting-covered face. Jane whacks Jake upside the head with her oven mitt, laughing with him.

You smile, because _this_ is your family. This misfit group of hunters with different personalities is your family, and for the first day in many, they actually look mildly happy. 

You’re happy.

 

+++

Your name is Dave Strider, and you might be having the worst day of your life. 

It basically started with that Pyrope girl. The one with the pointy troll horns. The two of you started hunting together a couple weeks back, which to you seemed odd since the female troll was blind. But she was a magnificent hunter. You never went two days without a decent feeding, and while a small part of you worried this life of bloody leisure would end up badly, a much bigger part of you thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Things got bad when you got lazy. While you had tried in the past to not kill the humans you fed on, Terezi didn’t, and eventually you followed her actions. It’s not that you wanted to kill them; no, definitely not. You only grew apathetic about it, and eventually forgot your promise to Jade. But you told yourself that she wouldn’t care – she too probably went back on her promise as well. Besides, you can’t trust a Hunter. They’re liars and murderers without a care for the lives they destroy.

Eventually, you stopped caring altogether. Terezi Pyrope was that kind of beautiful danger that could consume a man to death. Despite being a troll, she was more beautiful than any being you knew, supernatural or not. She had flawless grey skin and beautiful teal eyes that shown when she smiled with her wide mouth of razor-sharp teeth. Her plump black lips were enticing when they caressed across your jaw, fluttered down your chest, and sucked at your skin. 

It was never personal. Most of the time it just happened, usually after the two of you were Rushed and just trying to get some excitement to take advantage of the heightened senses and emotions. Other times it was purely boredom that drew you to her cold body. Days went by where you would wake up naked in your bed and there she’d be, her arms wrapped around your chest and her legs intertwined with your own. Your siblings never commented on your change in behavior. Rose couldn’t complain, as it was how her relationship with Kanaya Maryam was. Except they actually loved each other. 

The day things went to shit was the day Terezi came home battered and covered in teal bruises. You fussed over her, cleaned her up and put ice on her black eye. When you asked what had happened, she cried, and you held her on the floor of your bathroom. When she calmed down, she told you her boyfriend had found out about you and her, and went into one of his crazed rampages. She’d gotten away, but since it was daytime, she traveled in secret so as to not be seen by a human. 

That day was yesterday, and today was the day her boyfriend came for her. 

Gamzee Makara, a three hundred year old purple-blood troll, knocked in your front door at ten in the morning and immediately went for your throat. 

If his giant, sharp horns weren’t frightening enough, then his sheer size was what made you almost piss yourself. He was probably six and a half feet tall, eight with his hair and horns, and the menacing look on his face would be enough to make Vin Diesel cry. 

So when he wrapped his giant hands around your throat, you were praying for the end to be near. You could stand not being able to breathe; it as the fact that his grip was so tight you feared he would rip your head off. You could feel the skin of your neck tearing, your hot blood trickling at the seams. Your fingers clawed at his wrist, trying to pry his hands apart as your brain said over and over _I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die…_

Gamzee howled as Terezi kicked him off you. He threw you back, straight out through the window. Your skin tore to shreds by the broken glass as you fell out of your forty-first floor apartment. 

You unfurl your wings and let them catch the air, propelling yourself up. You’ll worry about the giant gaping hole in your window later, since right now you need to focus on Gamzee trying to kill you. 

You fly back in the window as fast as you can, straight at Gamzee’s head. You knock him to the floor and pin him by the neck. You look over to Terezi and see her cowered in the corner, her face completely swollen and bleeding from multiple places. 

“I’m gonna kill him!” you shout. Gamzee is thrashing on the floor, trying to tear you off. You hold him down by the horns. His arms are pinned by your feet, and his head is trapped between your knees. His trashing causes you to jerk your arms backwards, and you hear the slow cracking sound of his horn breaking off. After a moment, you put both hands on his right horn and snap it off completely.

Gamzee lets out the most guttural scream. In the back of your mind, you remember Terezi telling you that there were a bunch of nerve endings in trolls’ horns, and that breaking one off would be like cutting off a limb, and it would be the most painful thing possible. For a moment, you feel happiness in bringing him pain. You don’t care hat Terezi loves him; he’s never going to hurt her again. 

With his horn, you pull back and stab his heart. It won’t kill him, but it gives you time to break off his other horn. You raise it, about to bring it down–

“NO!” Terezi screams, flinging herself at you. She pushes you off of Gamzee, and punches you in the face. In confusion, you slap her. And you regret it instantly. 

She scrambles away from you to Gamzee, and moves the hair from his face. She pulls the horn from his chest and casts it aside. You wipe blood from your face as you watch her help Gamzee to his feet. She’s whispering in his ear, and hurries him out the door. You hear him shouting in the hallway, and moments later, Terezi walks back in.

“You smell red.” She smiles.

“What. The hell. Was that.” You breathe, furious. The smile leaves her face as she walks over to you.

“Don’t worry about it.” She touches your face. You swat her hand away, and pick up the two troll horns from the floor. You toss them at her feet and walk away. “Dave–“

In fury, you whip around and grab her by the shoulders and drag her to the broken window, holding her over the edge. The wind whips your face, and blows her hair in every direction. Tears that leave her eyes are instantly blown off.

“Dave! Please!” she shouts over the roaring wind. The only thing keeping the wind from sucking the two of you out the window are your wings, braced on either side of the window’s frame.

She can’t see you. Terezi relies on her senses, hearing echoes off walls and floors, smelling the lines of her surroundings and tasting colors. The wind is blowing across her face, blocking sound and scent. She is truly blind now, and is probably more scared than anything she has ever experienced. 

“Dave.”

You pull her into your arms, away from the window. Your wings automatically envelop the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” She sobs into the fabric of your shirt. You gently kiss the top of her head between her horns, and keep your arms wrapped tightly around her.

 

+++

 

The next day, April 13th, you got the window and the door fixed. Rose was furious that you had broken one of the UV lightproof windows, and Roxy and Dirk were unhappy overall with the incident. 

They wanted Terezi gone. They claimed her as a danger to the whole family, since she was still with Gamzee. 

“I can’t just let her go.” You said to Rose that night on the rooftop terrace.

“What’s keeping you with her?” she had looked at you, exasperated. “You’re not in love with her.”

“And why not?”

“Dave, have you seen yourself lately? You’re incapable of love. You just don’t _feel_!” she cried at you.

“You’re wrong.” Was the last thing you had said to her before unfurling your wings and jumping off the edge of the terrace.

 

+++

 

In the air, you can think. Maybe you don’t know where you’re flying to, but its better to fly than to stay and get into a heated argument with Rose. 

Maybe you’re not in love with Terezi, but that doesn’t mean you’re incapable of love. You do feel – admittedly not in the ways you should – emotions. You care about Terezi. She’s a beautiful girl, fun to be around. Though she does have her issues: Gamzee, her bloodlust, and her inability to handle a situation without makind a joke of it. 

And while you do care about Terezi, you’re not so sure Terezi cares about you in the same way. You are more of a distraction for her; a hunting buddy, a sexual accessory. 

She told you all about Gamzee after the incident. He met Terezi fifty-some years ago and the two fell into a sort of love-hate relationship. He would more than often go into one of these raging moods wherein he would be murderous and volatile. He never hurt her before, not until he found out the two of you were sleeping together. 

Terezi came to you because you were safe. You wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t go crazy on her, and you’d never treat her like she was worthless. All of which were true, but it hurt to hear. It hurt to hear that you were a compromise, a safe partner on the side of a relationship full of hate/love. 

Could you leave her, though? She got herself into this mess, dragged you into it too. The only good you get out of the relationship is someone else to help you catch your next meal. Otherwise, Terezi almost seems to want to turn you into her second love/hate relationship. And you don’t want that. Maybe trolls have their own culture and ways of looking at life and love, but that doesn’t mean you have to, too.

You take a deep breath, letting the cold air of the high altitude into your lungs. When you look back down at the ground, you see dark forests below, and New York far behind you. 

You soar lower. Just beyond this little forest, you see a coastline. As you swoop down onto the beach, you retract your wings, and leisurely drop five feet onto soft, dry sand. This unseasonably hot spring day had left the night balmy and comfortable. Ocean breezes flowed right through the two new holes in the back of your shirt, causing your skin to form goose bumps. You have to hold your hair back from falling into your eyes, it’s gotten so long. You’ll probably ask Rose or Kanaya to cut it for you when you get home.

If you go back home.

You never promised them that you would. If anything, they should be the ones to ask for you to come home. They don’t want Terezi there, so why should they want you?

Above, the moon shines brightly. Of course it’s a full moon, isn’t it? You never understood why the full moon is such a cliché. It’s always prevalent in every fucking story ever. Your life isn’t a goddamn fairy-tale, as much as it looks like it is from afar. 

As you wander down the small beach, the forest meets the water at a sort of jetty-like point. With one last glance at the sea, you enter the forest. 

The sky becomes obstructed by the high branches of the deciduous trees, and the sound of rolling waves turns into the sound of little bugs chirping amongst the leaves and the twigs breaking under your feet. There’s not much to see, frankly. Just the slivers of moonlight that ghost the forest floor.

You cross a couple of streams, and climb a hill. The higher you go, the more that the trees thin out. At the hills crest, you see a large, white mansion in the distance, who’s gardens are lit for what has to be a party. But you don’t hear music or people. 

As you walk closer, you recognize the house more and more.

You could get closer, and see what is going on. You could also leave, be on your merry way, and forget all about who lives just a mile from your favorite beach. 

Not far, you hear laughter. Hastily, you jump behind the cover of a large oak tree. Peeking around it, you see two figures: a tall male, and a shorter female. She’s leading him out of a thick oak grove, laughing. All of the sudden, he pulls her back capturing her into a deep kiss. Her reaction is surprised at first, then she seems to melt into him. The wind blows through the grove, shaking the branches of the oak trees. The moonlight illuminates on the faces of the couple. The man has a sharp face, and his light colored hair is pulled into a short ponytail. The woman has long, free-flowing black hair, a soft face and round glasses. 

You turn away, and quickly slink back into the forest. It’s time to leave, to go somewhere else. You won’t be wanted here, you think. She won’t want you here.

Maybe you’ll invite Terezi to stay over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy am I sorry that this is late. I had to deal with school and finals, but now that it's summer I /should/ have more time for writing. Hopefully. 
> 
> That is basically the end of my pre-written chapters, I've barely started chapter 8, so updates will not be close-together. I'm really sorry about that. 
> 
> Stay tuned! Chapter 8 will feature the introduction of a heftier plotline :)


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